


Power Corrupts: Judy's Dilemma

by JoansGlove



Series: Wentworth Detention Centre: The Ferguson Years [1]
Category: Prisoner (Cell Block H), Prisoner (Cell Block H) (TV), Prisoner (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:32:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7601755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoansGlove/pseuds/JoansGlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Acting Governor of Wentworth Detention Centre, Joan Ferguson, demands total obedience - and she WILL get it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power Corrupts: Judy's Dilemma

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Joan_reads_FreakyTits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joan_reads_FreakyTits/gifts).



> Dedicated to Woof - from one old freak to another, mate! :D
> 
> And as always, many thanks to Duchess for her enthusiastic assistance
> 
> NB: this story is set at the end of ep 423.  
> Please imagine that Joan put Sonia Stevens in a different dorm during the cell reallocation.

Today had been a very good day - publicly forcing Bryant to clean her shoe in the Rec room - the rush she’d got from that made her wetter than any time since her pursuit of Hannah Simpson. But she had no interest in the annoying woman other than to subjugate her like all the rest, well, almost no interest… Joan took care to tread softly as she approached Bryant’s cell and her breathing quickened and her nipples tingled at the thought of humiliating the tubby Yank further.

Quietly she unlocked the door and slipped inside. She surveyed the sleeping woman in the subdued glow of the emergency light and slowly drew on her trusty gloves. They’d been with her through thick and thin always ready to help out when needed and, as always, she shivered with pleasure as she snugged the leather down over her long fingers; she approached the bed and ripped away the coarse blankets that covered the meaty woman lying prostrate before her revealing rumpled pyjamas, the cheap patterned cotton tightly covering the swell of that huge, round arse.

Joan reached down, dragged the pyjama bottoms to Bryant’s knees and delivered a resounding slap to a pale buttock. “Wake up, Bryant!” She hissed, clamping her hand over the startled woman’s mouth, stifling any unnecessary noise as Judy cried out in pain and alarm. “You didn’t clean my shoes well enough earlier so I’ve come to make sure you learn how to do it properly.” She leered into Judy’s worried face “… but not before I’ve taught you the value of doing it right in the first place!” Oh, and she’d teach her alright she thought to herself as a charge of excitement burnt through her body, she’d make her rue the day she ever thought that she could stand up to Joan Ferguson!  
Pushing Bryant’s face into the pillow Joan released her and flexed her fingers like a card player. Her leather clad palm fell on the other soft arse cheek making it wobble from the force – she was going to enjoy this…. The blows rained down and the pale skin grew pink, then red as her victim moaned into her pillow. A sneer formed on her lips as Joan noted how Bryant’s hand had slipped beneath her belly, long fingers working furiously between her legs as she suffered her punishment. 

Judy knew that as much as she hated The Freak, she wanted her too. Her height and her looks, her self-assurance and swagger, the power she held – both professionally and physically… all these things went into making Judy wet whenever she thought about Ferguson touching her; she despised herself for it but was powerless against the force that was Officer Joan Ferguson. And the dominance she exercised yesterday ….Judy knew that she would have licked Ferguson’s foot clean if she’d told her to – and willingly too, fuck what the other women thought!

The searing pain of each slap transmuted into a warming tingle that fed directly to her cunt and nipples. Judy squirmed as her fingers rubbed against her swollen clit; her body was burning with desire and she thrust her arse up towards Ferguson’s unremitting hand – god it felt so good to be beaten by this woman! Wordlessly she rocked against her mattress, tired bedsprings protesting at the pounding, fingernails and toes digging into the worn sheets as wetness ran down from her twitching hole to bathe her hard and tender clit; her fingers slid explosively over its slippery surface as it was forced down against her hand with every painful contact between Ferguson’s palm and her hot buttocks. She groaned loudly into her thin pillow as gloved fingers forced themselves into her aching vagina, filling her, making her sting with discomfort and need. She tried to hold out but her hand soon found Ferguson’s, gripping her wrist and encouraging her to go faster, deeper.

“Oh, Bryant. You are a hopeless slut aren’t you, eh? Creaming yourself at the slightest touch? Well, it’s going to take more than my fingers in your snatch and a spanking to make up for your sloppy work.” She ripped her hand away and stood back. “Out of bed!” she barked. Judy looked bewildered. “I said out!” Joan grabbed a handful of messy grey curls and dragged the unfortunate woman to the floor. Power surged through her making her skin prickle under her blue suit and her clit tighten. With more than a touch of evil amusement Joan congratulated herself on the sight of Bryant at her feet, pyjama bottoms around her ankles, dishevelled and frustrated. 

“Lick this muck off!” Joan shoved her fingers deep into Bryant’s quivering mouth. “Yeah, that’s it, get it all off.” Her lip curled in contempt as the other woman fell to the task with grateful enthusiasm, “quite the cock sucker aren’tcha, Bryant?” she commented sarcastically. Bending down she withdrew her fingers with seductive slowness and trailed them down Judy’s neck before lazily wiping them dry on her pyjama jacket. “But then, I’ve always suspected that to be the case” she smirked.

Judy was so turned on she barely knew which way was up. Scalp still smarting, her senses reeled from the mixture of leather, tobacco and fanny juice that filled the recesses of her mouth and she could smell her own excitement wafting up from her hot groin. She desperately wanted to bury her face in Ferguson's blue skirt and rub it over her big thighs and the treasure they guarded. Her lips grew slack as she looked up into the hard face above her.

Joan drew herself up to her full height and gazed imperiously down at the fat woman. Bryant was a slob, contemptuous in almost every way, a bleeding heart liberal without the guts to back up her beliefs; she was little more than a joke but a pain in the neck nonetheless. Joan had made it her life’s work to treat these animals exactly as they deserved; she would cow Bryant’s jumped up ideas. “Now then, Bryant, you’re going to clean my shoes properly! You’re going to lick every last speck of dirt from them and you’re going to thank me for the privilege and for my benevolence.” She paused for effect. “Aren’t you, Bryant?” She yanked Judy’s head back, forcing her to look into her hazel eyes.  
“Yes, Miss Ferguson.”  
Joan crossed to the empty bed and smoothed her skirt over her arse and thighs as she sat down on the thin mattress. She lit a cigarette, flicking the still flaming match into the corner of the gloomy cell, and raised her right foot. “Well get to it, slut.” She smiled in perverse satisfaction, a tingle of euphoria buzzing in her chest as the plump prisoner hesitated before crawling across the cold floor to kneel at her feet. This was how it should be – with her in complete dominance over these animals, she loved that they hated and feared her – it made the victory all the sweeter. She watched Bryant closely as the big woman cradled her foot with reverence. Joan blew a stream of smoke over the pathetic prisoner. “Lick it!” She snarled. “I want to see it gleaming by the time you’re done!” 

Judy stared up at her, brown eyes shining in the dull light, then lowered her face to the shoe. The first sweep of her tongue over the smooth hide quelled all apprehension and she began to lick in earnest. The faint aroma of leather soon overcame the chemical tang of polish and as she worked, sliding her tongue over The Freak’s toes, along her instep and up the modest heel to her ankle her watering mouth was filled with the arousing taste. Her cunt clenched and she rubbed her face over Ferguson's foot, her lips trailing over taupe stocking as she inhaled the faintly acidic odour that clung to her gaoler’s skin.

“Very good, Bryant!” The praise was almost glowing. Ferguson dropped her butt on the floor and ground it out. She inspected the black stain it left on the underside of her shoe. “Now clean the sole” she ordered.  
Obediently Judy raised Ferguson's foot again and laved the dusty leather with her broad, wet tongue. The worn surface soaked up her spit and darkened as the pale, tasteless prison dirt disappeared down her throat; the black smear of burnt tobacco grew rank as she scrubbed it with her tongue, almost making her gag, but it was part of Ferguson - part of her degrading punishment – and Judy loved it. She wound her tongue around the solid heel like it was a tiny cock, pushing it deep into her wide open mouth then wrapping her lips over its stubby length as she licked and sucked – all the time staring up at Ferguson for her approval. 

Joan inspected her shining shoe. “Hmmm, not bad. Now the other one.” As Joan lowered her leg she felt a flood of moisture spread its way along her swelling slit and she allowed herself the tiniest shiver of arousal as Bryant carefully lifted her left foot and began to lick.  
A tendril of musk escaped the confines of Ferguson's skirt; Judy was so excited that she had to take special care not to rush the job and, as she knelt there, she could feel the slick warmth of her juices coating the tops of her ample thighs so, cautiously, she shifted position until her heel slipped into the deep hollow of her cunt then, with a sigh, she began to surreptitiously grind against it as she worshipped the smooth navy court shoe.

Judy set Miss Ferguson's foot down and with long fingers she stroked the damp leather as she waited for the next move. “Aren’t you going to thank me, Bryant? Not everyone would let you pay for your mistake so easily.”  
Judy searched Joan's smug face, sure that tonight was far from over but compelled to do as the Governor demanded – she’d do anything she asked of her. “Thank you, Governor for allowing me to remedy my poor behaviour.”  
“And?”  
“And I hope that I don’t give you cause for displeasure again.”  
“Oh, I’m sure you will, Bryant, but we won’t let that worry us right now will we? Take off your shirt. I want to see those nice, fat tits of yours.”

Judy’s eyes locked onto Ferguson's as she undid the bottom button and exposed her soft belly; she slowly rotated her hips, rubbing her aching labia against her heel as she grew wetter and wetter. She allowed five seconds to pass before slipping the next from its eyelet and slid her slim fingers up to the next. She fingered her soft skin as it peeked from the cheap striped cotton then popped the next fastening.  
“I said take it off – not perform a striptease!” snapped Joan, “hurry it up!”  
Abashed, Judy lowered her eyes and quickly undid the last button, pulling off the offending garment and shivering as the cool air settled on her hot skin. Her gravity defying breasts stood proud in the gloom, nipples wrinkled and hard, pointing towards her tormentor. 

Joan spent a long minute inspecting Bryant’s magnificent tits – they always drew her attention during morning showers but they looked even better now, quivering with each uncertain breath the slut took. She inhaled deeply and tensed her thighs as a slow throb filled her damp cunt. Her face gave nothing away. “Better, but not good enough. You should know me well enough by now, Bryant, to know that when I order something done you do it right away! What was all that in aid of, eh? You weren’t trying to seduce me, surely?” Joan laughed harshly into Judy’s stricken face. “You’ll have to try hell of a lot harder than that!” she scoffed, “hardly love’s young dream are ya?” with a disgusted look she swept her eyes over the sumptuous figure in front of her and tossed the small gold box and matches into the woman’s naked lap. “Give me a cigarette.”

Embarrassed, Judy fumbled with the lid and clumsily extracted a cigarette. It felt huge as she placed it between her lips, wholly alien, and her mouth filled with saliva at the sweetish taste of dry tobacco. The flare of the match illuminated Ferguson and Judy snatched a glimpse of solid thigh disappearing into the dark interior of the plain skirt. As she drew on the flame acrid smoke irritated her throat and the filter stuck painfully to her lower lip as she tried to remove it between choking coughs.  
“Not a natural smoker are ya, Bryant?” Ferguson taunted but made no move to take the cigarette from her. “I’m waiting, Bryant….”  
Raising herself up on her knees Judy placed the fag between the Governor’s cruel lips and stared into the mocking eyes prettily fringed with long, dark lashes as she memorised the feel of Ferguson's mouth against her fingers.

The hazel eyes squinted at her through the blue coils of smoke. “Stand up.” Joan loosened her baton.  
Judy got stiffly to her feet and eyed the truncheon with trepidation and no small amount of desire.  
Adopting a look of scorn Joan ran her gaze slowly over the American’s bounteous curves. “Turn around. I want to see my handiwork.”  
Obediently, Judy squared her shoulders and turned to face the cell door.

The swell of Bryant’s broad arse still glowed a deep red and Joan smiled in satisfaction at the constellation of pinprick bruises that littered the site of punishment. She trailed the tip of the baton all over Bryant’s huge buttocks then down the back of her meaty thighs and allowed herself a smug smile as the slut let out a shuddering sigh. “You might call yourself Top Dog, Bryant, but we all know you haven’t got what it takes,” she tickled the woman’s inner thighs, “have you, Bryant?”  
The grey head bowed, unruly curls obscuring suddenly sad features. “No.” She knew that Bea would never have let things get so bad.  
Throwing the cigarette to the floor Joan stood and grabbed a handful of hair. She wrenched Judy’s head back. “No, what?”  
“No, Miss Ferguson!” she cried. The clean sharp pain in her scalp shot like an arrow to her swollen sex and she clamped her thighs together.  
“That’s right,” she sneered and drew the baton up the fleshy divide of her victim’s backside. “No Top Dog would put up with what I’m going to do to you. You’re mine, Bryant, to do with as I please and when I please.” Joan pushed the rounded end into the soft mass of the Yank’s buttock, grinding it hard into the sciatic nerve. “Aren’tcha, Bryant?” Judy cried out as pain shot down her leg. “Aren’t you, Bryant?” Joan hissed menacingly into her ear. She tightened her grip on Judy’s mane and gave a sharp tug.  
“Yes, Miss Ferguson!”  
“Gooood,” she crooned, “just you remember it. I WILL send Parker to the mental hospital if you don’t.”  
Judy knew full well that The Freak would follow through with her threat if she could. “I’ll do anything you say, Miss Ferguson.”

Immensely pleased with herself, Joan released Bryant and slowly circled her taking a moment here and there to prod or tease her soft body with the baton. She stopped in front of Judy and holstered it. “Look at me, Bryant,” she ordered.  
Judy bit her lip as she raised her eyes to meet Ferguson's, lips that stretched in to a rictus of pain as gloved fingers clamped her stiff nipples and began to grind them in a vice-like grip; but the pain became sweeter and sweeter as the torment continued and her hips started to twitch with the growing need that filled her increasingly slippery slit.  
She opened her screwed up eyes to find Ferguson studying her. 

“Look at yourself! You pathetic slut! Betcha wish I was rubbing that hairy gash of yours, don’tcha, Bryant?” She cocked her head arrogantly, a smug leer on her face. She took a step closer, the reek of stale tobacco enveloped Judy as her tits were twisted even harder. “Answer me!”  
“Yes, Miss Ferguson.” She licked her lips in hopeful anticipation.  
“Of course you do,” she smirked, “but it ain’t gonna happen tonight,” her tone turned to one of menace, “it’ll happen when I want it to.” Ferguson's strong fingers gave a final, devilish pinch and abandoned her aching teats. Judy held her breath wondering what the tall woman would do next, her eyes flicked between the Governor’s leather clad hands and her mocking face. Her lips quivered with disappointment as the hateful bitch turned on her heel and sauntered to the door, stripping off her gloves as she went.

Pausing to listen for any patrolling officer, Joan pulled her keys from her pocket and drew a sharp breath in readiness to deliver her parting shot but, seeing how the horny bitch perked up like a dog craving its master’s attention, she thought better of it. Leave her hanging, she chuckled to herself, and tossed the ring of power in her palm before opening the door and exiting smartly.  
Joan's self-congratulatory grin lit her face and she almost slipped into the familiar swing and catch of her keys as she swaggered along the corridor, filled with a powerful sense of authority and an even stronger ache of arousal. She owned this prison; it was hers!

Damn Ferguson! Damn the bitch for making her feel this way! Fuck Ferguson! Oh god, how she wanted to fuck her! Ramming her hand between her legs Judy gave free reign to her fantasy of shoving a half-naked Ferguson onto the bed and eating her pussy till she came all over her face. When it peaked, Judy’s orgasm crushed her into the mattress, wrenching breath from her overwrought body as it wracked her with fabulous, bliss filled convulsions.  
I am a slut she thought as she rode the soft swells of her retreating climax, I’m Ferguson's slut – and I hate it.


End file.
